


Boredom is a Funny Thing

by CptnRuski



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Braden trying to be suave but is also a mess, But it's there, Fingering, Light D/s undertones, Lonely Philipp, M/M, Philipp does wear hot pants tho so thats a plus, Pining, Pole Dancing, soft praise kink, the boys drag Grubi to a strip club, very light
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-03-01 04:14:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13286754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CptnRuski/pseuds/CptnRuski
Summary: Grubi is bored living on his own after moving out of Braden's place to live on his own. After a few months of loneliness and pining, Philipp discovers the art of pole dancing.





	Boredom is a Funny Thing

**Author's Note:**

> I planned to churn this out in a week, yet here we are two months later. I am very behind on writing lol.  
> This was a fun piece to write, and as always I blame arionriot for being an enabler lol

Philipp Grubauer was a goalie. He was a _professional_ goaltender in the NHL and he was the backup for the Washington Capitals. He liked to think that he had a good career, a good team, friends, and the like.

 

However, Philipp was easily prone to boredom. After having lived most of the past season in his house, Philipp had moved out of Braden’s place halfway through that season after he and the rest of the team were fairly certain the Caps wouldn’t send him back down.

 

Philipp was excited to have his own place at first. He’d enjoyed living with his starter, but he reasoned that he needed to learn to live on his own. He’d always depended on other people, he figured it was probably time to focus on himself. Of course, it also helped that now he could bring guys home without fear of being outed. That was nice.

 

But of course, after the first month, Philipp got bored. He missed having someone else around, he missed bumping into someone in the kitchen while going about his morning routine. He couldn’t move back into Braden’s, nor could he move in with anyone else, so he thought about maybe finding someone nice to settle in with. He gave it a week’s attempt before deciding that idea wouldn’t have ended well, especially with Andre, Tom, and even Braden stopping by every so often. Being walked in on in the middle of something… yeah, he’d prefer to have that _never_ happen.

 

So Philipp threw himself into his hobbies. Photography, painting, running, reading, but one after one, he grew tired again. Photography was only so fun for so long without a subject matter, landscape paintings could only occupy him for so long, runs were already required for training, and he had managed to exhaust his kindle full of queer romance novels in two weeks. Philipp was really. Fucking. Bored. And he found that he missed his starter very often. He hadn’t expected that of himself at all.

 

Well, he was bored up until a few of the rookies were going out one night. He’d been invited, and the small group only got together every few weeks, so Philipp decided he’d go with. As they were leaving after a game one evening, one that they’d gotten the win in, Tom was excitedly discussing their plans. Philipp looked over to see Braden flashing him an amused smile, seemingly knowing what was to come.

 

The rookies had gone to a bar originally. Actually, they were more bar hopping than anything, but Philipp couldn’t even begin to explain to anyone how they’d wound up at a strip club.

 

The loud thumping music rung in Philipp’s ears as he looked around. His teammates were preoccupied at obtaining a booth near a catwalk, but his eyes were focused on a young man in shimmering silver hot pants and makeup contorted over a pole of the same color. Philipp felt his breath punch out of his lungs at the sheer _beauty_ of the sight. The man’s lithe, lean muscled body dancing and spinning in ways that shouldn’t have been possible. Yet there he was, defying gravity on his inanimate dance partner. Andre shook him out of it before dragging the German over to their booth where a little brunette woman was kind of dancing, but there was no skill to her movement. She was nothing like that blonde haired, silver hued boy whose skill and talent were just-

 

“Hey, Philipp! Your birthday’s soon!” Tom grinned excitedly.

 

“Um, yes, it is.” Philipp nodded, realizing his face was warm from thinking about that pole dancer.

 

“Shit, let’s get him a lap dance!” Andre yelled excitedly.

 

“Lap- No, no, let’s not and say we did-” Philipp protested as the two hauled him off his ass and lead him to the private rooms.

 

“Trust me Grubs, you’ll _love_ the ladies here.” Tom grinned as he came up to the man running the stand, “I’d like to buy my friend a lap dance please!”

 

Philipp went bright red as Tom slurred the words out and before Philipp knew it, he was being lead into the back rooms.

 

“Now, we have some options here,” a woman smiled next to him, seemingly appearing out of thin air, “but I saw you eyeing up Tony earlier.”

 

“Uh, ma’am I really don’t-” Philipp swallowed, looking around, nervously trying to spot an exit.

 

“Silver makeup boy?” The woman grinned and pointed to a door, “He’s through there.”

 

Philipp found himself pushed into a room where the boy, Tony, was leaned up against the wall. He looked at Philipp and sighed,

 

“Forced into a lap dance?”

 

“How did you know?” Philipp asked, scrunching his brow in confusion.

 

“Your eyes.” Tony laughed, “I see that look all the time. It’s chill, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

 

“You dance.” Philipp blurted out suddenly.

 

“Uh, yeah,” Tony nodded, “You were watching earlier, right?”

 

“Y-yeah. Uuh,” Philipp smiled awkwardly, “It was… That’s really cool.”

 

“Thanks.” Tony grinned, “I do a lot of training and knowing people appreciate it makes me really happy.”

 

Suddenly, a light went off in Philipp’s head.

 

“Where can I learn to do that?”

 

Tony looked at Philipp and smiled even wider than before, “My husband teaches classes just down the street at the dance studio every Monday, Tuesday, and Friday, with weekend hours available upon request!”

 

“Really?” Philipp questioned.

 

“Yeah! You interested in learning?”

 

Philipp nodded.

 

“I’ll let Marc know then!”

 

“Thank you.” Philipp  laughed softly

 

“Nah man, thank you for not actually wanting a lap dance, some ladies and dudes are just…” Tony shivered, “Besides, sharing the art is fun!”

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Building dance lessons into his routine had actually been pretty easy. He would go straight from practices to Marc’s studio three times a week, managing to fit it into his game and practice schedule. Marc and Tony had both been incredibly helpful with their teaching techniques and flexibility for schedules for which Philipp was thankful. The young German had progressed very well in his few months at the studio, even though he’d had to take some time off for training camp and then because of the early season stressors. In that time though, Marc had suggested he get a pole so he could practice at home. Philipp had agreed, knowing how important it was to stay in practice, and had wound up with a very nice set. He’d installed it in his photography studio right off the media room, and made sure to keep it locked at all times. He really didn’t need anyone on the team finding out about the pole.

 

Apart from the pole dancing, Philipp had found good friends in Marc and Tony. The two were hopelessly in love and happy. It made Philipp long for that kind of connection in his life. He wanted someone to care about him as Marc and Tony cared for each other, he wanted someone to hug him, to kiss him, to make him happy, but being a pro hockey player made it difficult to form that kind of attachment. Well, that and the being a gay hockey player part. He stood almost no chance of finding a boyfriend while he was still playing professionally, and even with all the YCP initiatives, he still feared coming out.

 

Of course, what helped Philipp even less was his relationships with his teammates. Specifically his feelings towards one broad, beautiful, and strong teammate. With his stupidly handsome jawline, his too beautiful hazel eyes, and his soft-looking auburn hair that Philipp wanted to run his hands through and grab at and…

 

Philipp sighed as he stared at Braden. The Canadian was across the room from him at a team event, amicably chatting with Andre and Nate. God he was beautiful when he was laughing and smiling with friends. Philipp felt his heart tug painfully in his chest as Braden looked over at him and offered a little wave before going back to his conversation.

 

“You know,” Nicky sighed as he sat himself down next to Philipp, “you’ll be stuck staring at him like this forever if you don’t talk to him.”

 

“I-” Philipp flushed in embarrassment, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

 

Nicky gave him the ‘that’s bullshit’ stink eye before chuckling, “You aren’t very subtle Philipp. It isn’t hard to recognize all the pining you’re doing.”

 

“I’m not-” Philipp shook his head.

 

“You are.” Nicky patted his back with a grin, “I know you don’t want anyone to know, but I know and Alex knows.”

 

“How?” Philipp frowned.

 

Nicky stared at him with a knowing smile for a moment before looking down, “Because I was the same way with Alex before I realized that talking is a very lovely thing.”

 

“... Oh my god you’re-” Philipp’s eyes blew wide in surprise.

 

“Five years now. Took me long enough to get my head out of my ass and talk to Alex. I just don’t want to see you waste away like I did Grubi.” Nicky explained, “It’s hard, but invite him over for dinner, have a good talk yeah?”

 

“... What if he hates me?” Philipp frowned as he watched Braden break into a loud belly laugh with the guys, his heart fluttering at the beautiful sound.

 

“He doesn’t have it in him to hate anyone.” Nicky reassured him, “Trust me on that.”

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Philipp didn't go to Braden right away. He wanted to ask Braden when there weren't so many people around. Maybe after a practice? Or a game? The young German pondered over his options the next morning, still nervous and unsure of what to do now.  They didn't have practice or a game that day, so Philipp was planning to get a good workout done on the pole in his study.

 

The pole was tall, the high ceilings making it easy for Philipp to dance well without threat of hitting something. It was silver and cold, but something about it had clicked well with him. Something about the pole brought something out in Philipp. He felt more confident while dancing, beautiful, sexy. It was similar to how the crease made him feel. Lonely, yet strong. Confident, yet reliant. The crease didn't inherently make him feel sexy, but he was absolutely aware of the things people said about goalie splits on the Internet.

 

Each spin, split, walk, and turn put Philipp at ease. He felt safe there, he had fun there, and he loved how he looked. Every time he nailed a skill, a smile creeped onto his face and a rush of satisfaction ran through his body. Philipp felt like he could do anything when he was up there, he was _flying_. When he finally slid down the pole in a final knelt position, Philipp laughed softly. Thank god for boredom or he wouldn't be having this much fun staying in shape.

 

It took Philipp a few weeks to talk to Braden. Every time he seemed to get a moment alone with the auburn goalie, he couldn't get the words out. Talking about technique could only go so far, and Philipp was running out of options. After a great practice, pole workout, and a game that _he'd_ bagged a win, he walked over to Braden with a confident smile on his face.

 

“Someone looks happy.” Braden noticed the moment Philipp stopped next to him.

 

“Haven't won a game yet this season, this one felt good.” Philipp chuckled back.

 

“Yeah, you were great out there today man,” Braden grinned widely, “I'm proud of you.”

 

Philipp felt himself flush and his heart skip a beat at Braden’s words of praise,

 

“Thank you.”

 

“So,” Braden huffed, clapping a hand on Philipp’s back, “you look like you've got a question?”

 

“It never ceases to amaze me that you just know when people need to ask you things,” Philipp rolled his eyes in amusement, “but yeah, I do have a quick question.”

 

“Fire away kid.” Braden laughed.

 

“I was wondering if you'd like to come over for dinner or something? Like to hang out sometime soon?” Philipp asked, praying to whatever deity there was that his voice didn't falter over his words.

 

“Well yeah, I'd love to,” Braden smiled, “I haven't done much with you since you moved out, it'd be great to hang again.”

 

“Great, what day works best for you?”

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Three days later they had a practice at home, but no game that evening. Philipp had gone into a cleaning frenzy the night before. He had made sure everything in the house would be as clean as possible and had even put out candles to help the room smell better. Practice had gone by in a flash. Braden had come up afterwards, big smile plastered on his face as he asked if they were still on to ‘hang’ that night. Philipp had grinned softly, and double checked that pizza would be alright for food. Braden didn’t mind, and soon, Philipp was rushing back to his car with a face more ruddy than his jersey.

 

After a once over of the apartment, and the arrival of the pizza, Philipp sat in the foyer waiting for Braden to arrive. The young German was antsy and couldn't sit still in his seat. He bounced slightly as anticipation buzzed throughout his body, his usual patience replaced with a giddy excitement. When the knock came at the door, Philipp jumped up before taking a moment to compose himself.

 

“Hey,” Philipp grinned as he opened the door to the friendly, also smiling face of Braden, “Come on in.”

 

“Hey yourself,” Braden chuckled as he stepped through the door, “that was certainly a long practice today.”

 

“It wasn't that bad though,” Philipp shrugged, “at least we didn't have to run suicides with the rest of the guys.”

 

“You aren't wrong there,” Braden laughed as he looked around, his eyes settling on the pizzas, “What kinds?”

 

“A plain and your ungodly pineapple shit.” Philipp rolled his eyes.

 

“Hey man don't knock it until you tr-” Braden protested.

 

“It was disgusting.” The younger pointed out.

 

“Listen-”

 

“Enjoy your blasphemy pie.”

 

The two stood still for a moment before they descended into fits of laughter.

 

“God I miss having you around kid.” Braden shook his head, “It’s good to know you can survive on your own though.”

 

“Figured it’d be helpful.” Philipp chuckled as he shrugged, “I found my old copy of _Mystery, Alaska_ , does a movie sound good tonight?”

 

“That sounds awesome.”

 

About halfway through the movie, Philipp was getting warm. The couch he and Braden were on wasn’t the biggest, and everytime Braden brushed up against him, the younger man struggled not to flinch or lean into it. He knew he was blushing whenever Braden commented on the movie and he was positive the Canadian had noticed. Philipp was hopeless.

 

After the court scene, Braden got up to grab some more pizza. Philipp stayed back and wallowed in his anxiousness. He wanted to _talk_ to Braden, but in his jittery, flustered state, he didn’t even know if he could get words out.

 

Philipp stood up a moment later, following the path Braden had taken, figuring he might as well snag some more food. As he walked down the hallway, he almost walked right into Braden. The older goalie jumped to the left in surprise and hit the door to-

 

_Oh fuck._

 

Philipp felt panic rush through his whole body as the door to his studio fell open because he had _forgotten to lock it_. The German froze as Braden made sure his food was alright, but as he turned to look at Philipp, his eyes fell… on… the pole…

 

“U-uh, Braden, are you ok?” Philipp asked, his voice weak as he tried to reach and pull Braden out of the room, but found himself completely frozen up in fear.

 

“Yeah… uh… I’m good.” He spoke slowly as he turned his eyes to Philipp, his brow furrowed in confusion.

 

“L-let’s go back to the m-movie ye-yeah?” Philipp stammered, longing for the anxiousness of sitting next to Braden instead of this mortification.

 

“... Grubi,” Braden sighed, “why is there a stripper pole in your house?”

 

“I-It was here when I moved in?” Philipp offered only to receive a stern, ‘no bullshit’ glare from Braden.

 

“It wasn’t here last time- _Philipp are those certificates for dance classes?_ ”

 

“Let’s go back to the movie!” Philipp blurted out, “N-Nothing to see in there ok, nothing!”

 

“Holy shit, _Philipp do you know how to pole dance?_ ” Braden asked, eyes wide and- _Holy shit was he blushing?_

 

Philipp felt his face go red hot at the question and he started sputtering, unable to get any words out.

 

“U-uh, Grubs can-?”

 

“Th-the movie-” Philipp stuttered, not even hearing what was coming out of Braden’s mouth, his nerves too haywire to focus.

 

“... Grubi.” Braden looked him in the eye with the same expression, the same _intensity,_ he did while in net.

 

“Y-yeah?” Philipp’s voice was small, timid even, while Braden’s goalie-stare was making him weak in the knees.

 

“Can… hm…” Braden thought for a second, “Do you give… demonstrations?”

 

Philipp froze, wide eyed and blushing like a goddamn primary school girl.

 

“I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Braden shrugged, and Philipp could _tell_ he was trying to be suave about this mess even when the Canadian’s face was getting a bit more pink by the second, “Just thought it’d… well…”

 

“U-uh,” Philipp stammered, “Braden I-”

 

“Again, you don’t have to-”

 

“I can’t… wear… this…” Philipp shuddered out, his body trembling from nervousness.

 

“I- _Oh._ ” Braden bit his lip slightly, “You uh, you want to?”

 

“I’llberightback.” Philipp blurted before rushing out of the studio and up the stairs to his room.

 

He practically slammed the door behind him, his breaths coming in heavy pants because _holy shit._ The German took a moment to settle himself, evening out his breathing before thinking about what had just happened. Braden wanted to see him dance and Philipp swore that he was sleeping. This couldn’t be happening, this was a dream, he was passed out on the couch and-

 

“ _Fuck,_ ” Philipp hissed as he stubbed his toe on the bed, “Not a dream.”

 

Philipp dragged his hands over his eyes for a second and groaned. He wasn’t going to survive this.

 

He walked over to the bottom drawer of his dresser and bent down to open it. All his good dancing clothes were in there and he didn’t realize how _skimpy_ they were until now. Sighing, Philipp grabbed a pair of red metallic shorts that in all honesty could barely pass for underwear, but fuck if he had anything longer.

 

The walk down the stairs absolutely felt like a walk of shame. Nerves were coursing through Philipp, and when he walked into his studio and saw Braden sitting in his desk chair, he froze up. The older goalie didn’t notice him right away, so Philipp walked over, and stood at the pole. He remained there for a minute until Braden looked up from a sheet of paper and his jaw _dropped._

 

“Uh-” Philipp blushed.

 

“ _Holy shit._ ” Braden whispered, “You... You are _stunning._ ”

 

Philipp gasped softly at the praise and looked down in shock, not expecting a compliment like that from his starter.

 

“Th-there’s a list… of music… on the desk.” Philipp stuttered, “Y-you can pi-pick one? Um, i-if you’d like that i-is.”

 

Braden looked down at the paper Philipp pointed to before shaking his head, “Why don’t you show me something that’d be a good… _showcase_ for your skills if you would?”

 

“O-oh uh, yeah,” Philipp nodded, blushing as he realized the best song he’d choreographed was the fucking Sugar song, “... Can you just… hit… the Def Leppard album on my itunes. The stereo system is hooked up already.”

 

“Oh my fucking god.” Braden chuckled and Philipp realized that his starter knew _exactly_ what song he was going for, it was one of the most used songs in strip clubs so...

 

The minute the guitar riff started, something clicked in Philipp. It was the same feeling that happened when he got into game headspace, nothing mattered except _his_ performance. Every movement he made was well practiced, calculated, yet fluid at the same time. Since Philipp had started dancing, he’d come to know his body even more intimately than what being a goaltender had taught him. It had even helped him with his goaltending which to Philipp was the funniest part. He’d learned how to move, how to entice, how to be _sexy._ The minute he went for a complex set of spins and splits on the pole, his confidence seemed to explode and soon, any nerves he’d had were gone. All that mattered was him and the pole. The music thumped loudly in the little room, guiding Philipp’s movements, the heavy bass and guitar lines electrifying his body and the pole was the conductor.

 

When Philipp came to his final spin, he smiled. The German landed softly in a straddled position, his chest thrust out just slightly, and breathing heavily. He looked up to see Braden with that gaze _focused_ on him, like _he_ was all that mattered to Braden. The Canadian’s legs were crossed, his hands relaxed… he was the fucking _picture_ of serenity. Braden’s attention on Philipp had… had some interesting effects and Philipp blushed furiously as he realized that not only was he sporting a semi, but he’d forgotten his dance belt.

 

Braden chuckled after a moment of just _staring_ at Philipp. He cocked his finger out and gestured for Philipp to move over to him. Philipp arched an eyebrow before getting up and sauntering over to Braden.

 

“You know,” Braden smiled softly at him, “you really are gorgeous Philipp.”

 

Philipp flushed at the compliment, because that seemed to be the only thing he could do when Braden praised him.

 

“Hm,” Braden looked Philipp’s nearly naked body up and down, “Tell me something, do you do lap dances too?”

 

“Only for my best customers.” Philipp teased.

 

“Oh? You have customers?” Braden feigned surprise, raising his eyebrows to sell it.

 

“Mmhmm.” Philipp hummed as he leaned over Braden’s chair, resting his hands on the armrests, boxing his starter in.

 

“Really?” Braden smirked, his expression calm, cool, and collected.

 

“Yeah, in fact, I have a favorite.” Philipp preened.

 

“A favorite?” Braden arched an eyebrow.

 

“Oh yeah. He’s tall, got great hair, and has the loveliest voice I’ve ever heard.”

 

“He sure sounds like a knockout.” Braden chuckled low in his chest, the sound sending shivers down Philipp’s spine.

 

“Mm, he sure is.” Philipp told him, walking two fingers up Braden’s chest.

 

“Your man have a name?” Braden questioned as Philipp feld a shudder run through the older man’s body.

 

“A really nice one, just _rolls_ off the tongue.” Philipp purred.

 

“Where’s he right now?”

 

“Well,” Philipp flashed a sultry smirk, “considering he’s my starting goaltender, I’d say he’s _right where I want him_.”

 

“Oh Philipp, you beautiful boy, c’mere.” Braden laughed as he pulled the German closer.

 

Philipp blushed, but managed a smile as he slid into Braden’s lap. Before he could move however, there was a hand on the back of his head, and a pair of lips on his. Without thinking, Philipp sighed into the kiss and wrapped his arms around Braden’s shoulders, reveling in the feeling of being in the Canadian’s arms. He technically had promised Braden a lap dance as well, so he started slowly grinding down against the older goalie. Braden gave a low moan at the feeling, and gently slipped his tongue into Philipp’s mouth. The younger of the pair also gave a soft moan, this one at the combined feeling of Braden licking into his mouth and the arm that had wrapped around his waist. As Braden’s fingers dragged slowly against the skin just above his waistband, Philipp keened. Braden chuckled at the soft sound, while Philipp fought to catch his breath.

 

“Christ I don’t know why I didn’t tell you sooner.” Philipp shook his head.

 

“Yeah,” Braden laughed, “We could’ve been doing this for ages.”

 

“Wait,” Philipp furrowed his brow, “Why didn’t _you_ talk to me about this sooner.”

 

Braden sighed before frowning, “Starters and backups… don’t tend to have the greatest relationships. I didn’t want to… well… I didn’t want to take advantage of you.”

 

“I mean, I wouldn’t _mind_ being taken advantage of by you.” Philipp grinned, accentuating his teasing with a quick roll of his hips.

 

“You’re ridiculous.” Braden chuckled.

 

“I try.” Philipp laughed back then waggled his eyebrows, “Now, are we going to do this on a flimsy desk chair, or would you like to head up to my room?”

 

Philipp wasn’t one to usually underestimate someone’s strength. That kind of caution came with being a goalie. However, Philipp had no idea how he hadn’t realized Braden was as _strong_ as he was. One moment he was just on his starter’s lap and the next, Braden was carrying the German up the stairs.

 

“You have no idea how turned on I am right now.” Philipp mused as Braden ascended the stairs.

Braden merely laughed and shook his head in response as they reached the top. Philipp pointed out his bedroom door after Braden stole a quick kiss from him. They were through the door a moment later and the next thing Philipp knew, he was lying on his bed.

 

“So,” Philipp smirked as Braden settled on top of him, “you do this with all the boys who put on a show for you?”

 

“You’re a menace.” Braden’s shoulders bounced as a laugh rumbled through him.

 

“What were you expecting? Some ‘Oh take me now Mr. Holtby’ shit?” Philipp cackled.

 

“What if I was?” Braden’s eyes glinted in a predatory manner as he pinned Philipp’s hands above the younger’s head.

 

“I mean, I’m certainly _all_ for that.” Philipp purred, wiggling his hips to try to get Braden to touch his now fully hard cock.

 

“Are we now?” Braden asked as he started to slowly grind down against Philipp’s straining erection.

 

“ _Oh, take me now Mr. Holtby!_ ” Philipp moaned, forcing his voice up an octave before bursting into a fit of laughter.

 

“Oh fuck you.” Braden rolled his eyes, then went about laying kisses along the side of Philipp’s neck.

 

A soft gasp escaped Philipp as Braden sunk his teeth into the sweet spot right between the junction of the German’s neck and shoulder.

 

“B-Braden!” Philipp gasped in shock, his body jerking at the sudden sensation.

 

All Philipp received in reply was an amused hum from the older man atop of him followed by Braden’s tongue laving at the bite mark.

 

“What are you even-” Philipp furrowed his brow before flushing as Braden bit down against his shoulder.

 

Braden pulled off and arched an eyebrow at him.

 

“ _Braden,_ you’re leaving _marks._ ” Philipp hissed.

 

“Yes.” Braden nodded with a smile.

 

“B-but the team, they’ll _see._ ” Philipp felt himself run hotter as the words left his mouth.

 

“Hm, I guess so,” Braden teased, “all the better to make them realize who you belong to then.”

 

“ _Oh._ ” Philipp whispered out his eyes widening, “Am I yours?”

 

“If you want to be.” Braden smiled softly and Philipp felt his heart melt.

 

“If I say yes will you stop teasing me and fuck me so hard I won’t be able to sit right on the bench tomorrow?” Philipp smirked.

 

“I’m thinking that that can be arranged. Though, I was planning on doing that anyways.” Braden chuckled as he reached leaned down so that his nose bumped against Philipp’s.

 

“Well then,” Philipp breathed out, “let’s continue, shall we?”

 

“You know,” Braden chuckled as he pressed a kiss to Philipp’s lips, “you are one of the most lovely men I’ve ever seen.”

 

“Lies.” Philipp rolled his eyes, “Have you _seen_ yourself in a mirror recently?”

 

“I think I would’ve had to for trimming this,” Braden laughed back as he scratched his beard slightly.

 

“Oh my god,” Philipp giggled, “Five minutes ago we were ready to go hard and now we’re arguing over compliments.”

 

“Going straight to fucking isn’t nearly as fun as teasing each other during foreplay.” Braden smiled as he kissed Philipp again.

 

“What if I _like_ going straight to the fucking?” Philipp countered.

 

“You’ll just have to deal. I am planning on taking this nice and slow, you know.” Braden explained as he stroked Philipp’s cheek with his hand softly.

 

“What if I don’t like slow?” Philipp chuckled as he wrapped his arm around the older goalie’s shoulders and used it as leverage to grind up against Braden.

 

“Then I’ll tie you up and make you take it.” Braden smirked as he pressed his hips down hard enough to halt the younger’s movement, “Have you even had a nice round of slow sex before? Because let me tell you, it can be just as intense.”

 

“... No.” Philipp admitted, “I’ve had flings but-”

 

“Wait.” Braden stopped him, sitting up slightly, “You’ve never had like… a good old fashioned lovemaking session?”

 

“Um, hockey doesn’t really allow time to… like… do anything, especially with guys.” Philipp stuttered, his confidence from just moments before ebbing away.

 

“Oh Philipp,” Braden frowned before shaking his head, “lie back, I’ll take care of you tonight, alright?”

 

“Braden I-”

 

“Please.” Braden smiled, kissing Philipp _again_ and making the German even more light headed, “For me?”

 

“... Fine.”

 

Philipp had thought slow meant that he was going to be teased for hours. That was what he was worried about. As it turned out, slow did not mean hours of teasing torture. It meant being taken apart and fingered and kissed and held until Philipp was a shivering, whimpering mess.

 

It hadn’t taken long for Braden to get two fingers sliding in and out of Philipp slowly. After Braden had pushed Philipp back down to the bed, the older of the pair had stripped. Philipp was mesmerized by the man above him, completely in awe of how beautiful Braden was while also appreciating the poise the older man held. Braden had gotten his clothing off more efficiently than the younger goalie would’ve been able to at the time. Thank god Philipp was just in hot pants- though Braden had gotten those off quickly as well.

 

After lavishing Philipp’s body with kisses and teasing, the older goaltender had made quick work of getting the lube from Philipp’s bedside table. Which lead them to where they were now. Philipp on his back, pillow propping him up, while Braden took him apart under the skillful strokes of his fingers.

 

The moans that escaped Philipp’s lips had gone from shy to completely shameless. He could _feel_ Braden’s eyes drinking in the sight and his ears taking in the sounds with glee as Philipp writhed beneath him. It had taken Braden less than a minute to find his prostate when he’d stretched a second finger in. Philipp had been shocked, but had quickly become a mess when the Canadian had focused all his attention on the little bundle of nerves. Each drag of Braden’s fingers inside of him, _tugging against his hole_ , sent electric shocks through the German’s body. The only thing that mattered was Braden cooing sweet nothings while working in a third finger.

 

Philipp whined high in his throat as Braden stretched out all three fingers inside of him. It was all too much, yet not enough. He could feel the coiling sensation in his stomach tightening, but he couldn’t _get_ there.

 

“Philipp?” Braden asked softly, his voice cutting through the haze in Philipp’s mind, “Are you alright? You made a face.”

 

“I-I’m fine-” Philipp whimpered, trying to fuck himself back on the older man’s fingers, “ple-please Braden, m- _more_.”

 

Braden smiled then leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to Philipp’s lips. His fingers slowed as he managed to slide his tongue into Philipp’s mouth. The younger man moaned and buried his hands in Braden’s hair as he kissed back. He tried to simultaneously push up into Braden and push _back_ onto Braden, getting frustrated as he struggled with it.

 

“ _Braden_ ,” Philipp whined, pulling back, “more, _please_.”

 

“We’re almost there Philipp, you can hold out for a little while longer. Can’t you?” Braden gave a sly grin as he spoke.

 

“Please Braden,” Philipp shook his head, he didn’t know when his body had begun to tremble, but it was noticeable now. God, he was so overwhelmed.

 

“If you don’t like it-” Braden frowned, gently reaching and clasping one of Philipp’s hands in his free one, “I can stop.”

 

“I like it,” Philipp whimpered, “I j-just need _more_ . _Please_.”

 

“Just a little while longer Philipp.” Braden promised.

 

“I need t-to-” Philipp shook as he tried to speak coherently. He felt like he was burning up, he was so hard, so wound up. He could go over at any second.

 

“Need to what Philipp?” Braden gave him a sweet smile, “What do you need?”

 

“Please, I need to come, b-but I can’t-” Philipp stammered, his voice breaking as Braden started to rub his fingers against the younger man’s prostate with a newfound purpose.

 

“I want to see if you can come without a hand on you.” Braden told him and Philipp swore he was even more turned on than before.

 

“I- I don’t think I can.” Philipp shook his head, feeling his eyes start to sting and the pressure in his core building.

 

“I’ve got you Philipp.” Braden cooed softly, speeding his fingers up.

 

“Br- Braden,” Philipp sputtered, “Braden, _Braden-_ ”

 

Without warning, the pressure in Philipp’s stomach seemed to explode. A strangled whine tore from Philipp’s lips and his eyes blew wide as he reached his climax before he even realized what that feeling was. It was such a _different_ feeling than what he was used to. Braden wrung the orgasm from him, rubbing his fingers against Philipp’s prostate with the perfect amount of pressure to keep him coming. It almost came in waves, lasting much longer than Philipp thought it would.

 

When Philipp finally came to, his breaths heavy and body still shaking, he was greeted with an especially tender kiss from Braden. The older man smoothed his hand over Philipp’s chest and stomach, getting some of the younger’s come on his hand. Braden sat up then looked down at his hand. He smirked, looking Philipp right in the eyes as he licked the white substance from his fingers.

 

Philipp gave a soft moan at the sight but gasped as he felt one Braden’s fingers crook inside him.

 

“Braden,” Philipp hissed, “what’re you-”

 

“You didn’t think we were done did you?” Braden chuckled, arching his eyebrow in amusement.

 

“Uh-” Philipp frowned, “I know I said I didn’t think I’d be able to come like... well… that, but I legitimately don’t think I can get it up again.”

 

“You’re like, 22 Philipp.” Braden laughed, “I’m sure you can.”

 

“I’m 24.” Philipp rolled his eyes.

 

“Still young. Unless you’d prefer me _not_ fucking you like you wanted.” Braden laughed as Philipp playfully threw a pillow at him.

 

“Still want it dumbass.” Philipp smiled, “It may take me a bit and I’m very sensitive down here.”

 

“I can be gentle.” Braden told him, his tone smooth and calming.

 

“... I trust you.” Philipp breathed softly.

 

Braden stared down at him with wide eyes for a moment before cupping Philipp’s cheek and pressing another soft kiss to his lips.

 

“Tell me if anything hurts please,” Braden whispered, “and if anything… just say no and I’ll stop.”

 

“Alright.” Philipp grinned and nodded.

 

Not even a moment later, Braden slicked himself up and lined himself up. As Braden helped Philipp’s legs over his shoulder, the younger of the pair keened.

 

“Phili-” Braden frowned.

 

“Get on with it.” Philipp huffed out, trying to push back onto Braden.

 

“Christ you’re impatient.” Braden chuckled then slowly pushed in, knocking the air from Philipp’s lungs in the process.

 

The stretch burned. It was much more than Braden’s fingers, but it didn’t hurt. It just felt strange, different even. Philipp absolutely had used toys before, but nothing he’d done could compare to the feeling of Braden bottoming out in him.

 

Philipp moaned softly as Braden shifted his hips. The tugging against his hole combined with the friction in him was… it felt _very_ nice. Philipp took a deep breath to settle himself and pushed his hips back against Braden’s.

 

“Philipp,” Braden groaned, his head hung low, hair in his eyes, and his voice was gruff and low.

 

“You can move,” Philipp breathed out, knowing exactly what Braden was going to ask and was greeted by a sly grin followed by an experimental roll of the older man’s hips.

 

A soft gasp escaped from Philipp as Braden gave a rougher thrust into him. The younger goalie’s hands flew to Braden’s shoulders while the older man set a swift pace, his own hands gripping Philipp’s waist tightly. Suddenly, Braden angled his hips differently and Philipp choked out a loud cry.

 

“Philipp?” Braden’s hips stuttered slightly, “Philipp are you-”

 

“ _Do that again!_ ” Philipp moaned, pushing back into Braden, trying to get him to hit that spot again.

 

Braden gave a dark smile and did just that. The moans that left Philipp’s mouth were positively obscene. Philipp would usually have been embarrassed by the sounds, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. All that mattered was Braden fucking him hard and fast, hitting his prostate with each thrust, just how he liked it.

 

“Fucking Christ Philipp,” Braden growled out, his hands tightening on Philipp’s hips, “You do this often?”

 

“Not fucking enough.” Philipp gasped, “Holy- holy fuck, Braden c-c’mon, I can take it-”

 

“The point isn’t for you to take it,” Braden slowed his hips slightly, “It’s for you to enjoy it.”

 

“I’d en-enjoy it if you went h-harder-” Philipp whined.

 

“You’re a needy little thing.” Braden shook his head, “You’ll _take_ what I give you.”

 

More heat seemed to pool in Philipp’s core at Braden’s words. He looked up at Braden with wide eyes but threw his head back as Braden started to roll his hips down. Each drag against Philipp’s prostate seemed to bring him closer even without the rough, hard kind of sex he was used to. Soon Philipp was reaching down to jerk himself off, but his hand was batted away. Braden shook his head in amusement before taking Philipp’s cock in his big, calloused hand.

“O-oh fuck,” Philipp whimpered as the feeling started to become too much, “B-Braden I’m close-”

 

“Yeah?” Braden grinned, the older goalie barely able to keep his composure, “You gonna come for me Philipp?”

 

Philipp nodded as he was caught in the endless loop of pushing into Braden’s hand and rocking back against the older man’s cock. Soft ‘ah’s escaped from Philipp with each drag of Braden within him. He was getting close.

 

Braden seemed to read his mind and soon he was speeding up his thrusts and his hand. It wasn’t long before everything felt too much. The pressure in Philipp’s stomach was building and building with each and every movement. Braden was making low grunting noises, though had he been making them all along? All Philipp knew was that he was moaning, he was so fucking close, he was-

 

“F-fuck- _fuck!_ ” Philipp cried out as Braden hit him _just right_ and he was sent careening over the edge, “ _Braden!_ ”

 

He moaned as the waves of white hot pleasure coursed through his body. He felt Braden’s hips stutter slightly and a low moan as Philipp’s come striped the both of their stomachs. Soon, all the younger goalie could focus on was the warm, pleasant, post-orgasm haze settling over his mind. He vaguely registered Braden pulling out of him and a warm feeling on his abdomen a moment later.

 

At some point Braden got up and returned with a dampened towel in hand. He gently wiped the come from Philipp’s stomach and legs, making sure to avoid any spots that would be tender. His hands were soft as they worked as well.

 

When the come and lube was finally cleaned off of Philipp, Braden slid into bed next to him again. He hesitated for a second before pulling Philipp closer to him. Philipp looked up in shock for a moment, but smiled softly as he tucked himself into Braden’s arm.

 

“So,” Braden started quietly.

 

“So.” Philipp mumbled, sleepily back.

 

“Would… hm…” Braden frowned but looked down.

 

“Would what?” Philipp questioned, arching a brow in confusion.

 

“I know it goes without saying that there’s a mutual attraction here,” Braden chuckled, “but, would you like to be my partner?”

 

“I-” Philipp’s eyes widened before a huge smile stretched across his face, “Yeah Braden. I’d- I’d love to be.”

 


End file.
